I See the Light
by la lisboa
Summary: Once meets Tangled. Regina steals baby Emma so her magic can sustain a terrible curse. Eighteen years later, a huntsman on the run stumbles upon her in the woods and takes her on the adventure of her life. AU. Gremma.
1. What Once Was Mine

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognize belongs to me!

**A/N:** This is an idea that I've toyed with writing for a while now, and I finally decided to try it. It's AU and maybe a bit out there, but I know there are a lot of Oncers who love Tangled so hopefully this gels well with them. Think of it as Once as Tangled - Emma in Rapunzel's role, Regina in Mother Gotham's, our favorite huntsman in Flynn Rider's, etc.

I haven't decided if I'm going to continue this story yet, so please read and let me know if you think it's worth continuing.

This was not beta'd, so any and all mistakes are mine.

* * *

The sky outside the castle windows was growing steadily darker. It seemed that Regina had succeeded in casting her curse at last. Snow knew there was nothing they could do to stop it now. The curse was coming.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the only thing coming.

Snow cried out as another contraction came over her and squeezed Charming's hand. She knew they were coming too fast now and just like Regina's curse, there was nothing she could do to make them stop either. The thought of not making it into the wardrobe with her daughter scared her more than leaving Charming behind. Leaving him behind would be terrible, but at least she'd have hope of seeing him again.

"No," she moaned, scrunching up her eyes against the contractions. "I can't have this baby now."

"Doc, do something," Charming said to the dwarf. He rested his head on top of hers while Snow struggled to breathe through the pain. "It's going to be okay, the wardrobe's almost finished," he told her. "Just hold on."

Snow didn't have the strength to tell him she didn't think she could. She was using all of her energy to keep this baby, their one hope, inside her. Emma was the one light at the end of a twenty-eight year tunnel. The savior. She couldn't be born now.

"It's ready," Snow finally heard Geppetto say. Charming immediately scooped his hands under her, but Doc stopped him.

"It's too late, we can't move her." Snow knew he was right, but it did nothing to ease her panic. They had failed; _she_ had failed. Emma was coming now.

"Push," Doc urged her.

Snow screwed up her face and pushed as hard as she could. Finally the pain receded and her daughter's cries mixed with her own. Doc swaddled the baby in a cloth and then wrapped the blanket around her. He offered her the bundle, which Snow took with trembling hands.

Her daughter had to be the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It seemed so unnaturally cruel that they would be together for so little time. Looking down at Emma's face for the first time, Snow knew that losing her daughter would be unbearable.

"The wardrobe," she murmured, tracing the letters of Emma's name on the blanket. "It only takes one."

Charming leaned into her. "Then our plan has failed," he said quietly. "At least we're together."

The sky had grown darker still, but every now and then, angry streaks of lightning would blaze. Emma shifted in Snow's arms, her eyes closed, completely oblivious to the fact that her world would soon be ending. Snow closed her eyes and waited. It was all she could do. She repeated Charming's words in her head.

_At least they were together._

Suddenly, there was a resounding boom and all of the windows shattered. Snow's eyes flew open and she clutched Emma closer to her chest, savoring her last moments with her daughter and husband. The castle torches had been blown out, but lightning still flashed across the sky, casting silvery shadows over the room. For a moment, the entire world was illuminated.

And then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped. The wind stopped howling, the thunder receded, and the lightning was reduced to a dull flickering. Snow drew a shaky breath as she felt Charming leave her side. He made his way over to the empty window frame and looked out. He pulled back with a sudden gasp.

"Snow. The curse. I think it failed."

* * *

"Good evening, Your Majesty."

The mouse skittering across the dungeon floor suddenly stopped. In a whirl of purple smoke, the mouse was gone, replaced by an extremely livid Regina. Rumpelstiltskin pointed behind her with one of his long, gnarled fingers. Regina didn't even turn around. She snapped her fingers, and the two guards behind her immediately dropped to the floor.

"You told me it would work." Regina's voice was so choked with anger, Rumpelstiltskin could barely make out the words. "Isn't that what you told me? That if I used the thing I loved most, I would be able to cast this curse?"

"Yes?" Rumpelstiltskin merely blinked through the bars of his cage.

"Well, you imp, it didn't work," Regina hissed. "The curse still failed."

Rumpelstiltskin tapped the ends of his fingers together. "My, my," he said. "That is quite the quandary."

"You told me it would work!" Regina lunged toward him, but was unable to get through the bars of the cage. Instead, she wrapped her fingers around the rusted metal and shook the bars, shouting, "I killed my father for you and it still didn't work!"

"For _you_," he corrected her calmly. "I believe you were the one who wanted to cast this curse, dearie."

"Why didn't it work?" Regina demanded.

Rumpelstiltskin grinned. "I haven't the faintest idea."

She turned away from him in disgust. "You're lying."

Rumpelstiltskin's eyes twinkled. "You know what they say about true love, dearie. It's _magic._"

* * *

Snow leaned against the doorway to Emma's nursery as she watched her daughter sleep. It was thundering outside, the first time it had done so since Regina had attempted her curse. Snow still couldn't understand how or why Regina's curse had failed, although if she had to guess, she suspected Rumpelstiltskin had something to do with it.

A sudden loud thunderclap was all it took to startle Emma awake. Snow was at her daughter's crib just before she began to cry.

"There, there, sweetheart," Snow said, picking up the wailing infant from her crib. "It's just a little rain." She walked around Emma's dark nursery, rubbing her daughter's back. "You don't want to wake your father."

Eventually, Emma's cries subsided and Snow exhaled. She'd been worried that she wouldn't make a good mother, since she had no idea how to be one, but it seemed that Ruth had been right. She didn't need to have had a good mother in order to be one. Snow was pleased to find she took to motherhood quite naturally.

Just as Snow was about to lay Emma back down in her crib, she felt Charming wrap his arms around her from behind. He kissed her cheek and then rested his head in the crook of her neck.

"Did she wake you?" Snow whispered.

"No, it was the storm," he replied. He carefully took the sleeping Emma and kissed her forehead before placing her back in her crib.

Snow stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself, watching Charming with their daughter. She had come so close to losing this, losing their family. Losing everything.

But she knew Regina would still take it from her if she had the chance. And now that Snow had Emma, too, Regina would have even more ways to destroy her happiness.

"She's going to try again, you know," Snow murmured. The very thought made her sick.

Charming turned around and pulled her close. Snow rested her head over his heart as he whispered, "I know."

* * *

"I know what you did."

Rumpelstiltskin blinked. Regina was standing before him again, in the exact same spot he had just seen a spider. The guards behind her were already on the ground. He hadn't even heard them fall.

"Do tell, dearie," he said, examining his dirty fingernails.

"It's _her_, isn't it," Regina said. "It's the baby."

"The baby?" Rumpelstiltskin repeated calmly. "Babies are born every day. I'm not sure to which child you are referring."

"To _her_ child, you dimwit," Regina snarled. "To _Snow's_ child."

"Ah." Rumpelstiltskin looked up. "I see. Yes, Snow did indeed have her baby."

"I know that," Regina said impatiently. "The entire kingdom is still celebrating the birth of a new princess."

"_And_?"

"_And_ I'm not closer to being happy than I was nine months ago," Regina snapped. Rumpelstiltskin sensed she was growing annoyed with his act. "And now Snow's happier than ever."

Rumpelstiltskin smiled. "What do you plan to do about that, dearie?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

Rumpelstiltskin waggled his finger in front of her face. "Ah, ah, ah. I don't think so. There are some things you must figure out for yourself."

Regina's eyes narrowed. "I'm right, then. The child is the reason."

"She's _part_ of the reason," Rumpelstiltskin conceded. "But you must consider your own role as well. I told you to use the thing you loved most."

"I did that."

"Did you, though?" Rumpelstiltskin titled his head. "Using the heart of the thing you love most requires that you actually love something."

"Do _not _tell me what I did and did not love," Regina said, her voice dangerously low. "I loved my father. I adored him."

Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "Loving someone because they are weaker than you is not the same as true love. True love is magic. One you do not possess."

"I had true love once," Regina hissed. "But his heart stopped beating years ago. We both know who saw to that." Regina paced outside his cell. "I could have loved once. I _did _love once. But she took that away from me. She took _everything_."

"So you've sworn revenge on Snow White for a childhood grudge?"

"She killed Daniel!" Regina snapped. "_She_ made me this way, she gave me this name. She's the one who made me evil."

Sometimes she reminded him so much of Cora.

He beckoned Regina closer and leaned in so he was less than an inch from her face. He could feel her hot, angry breath on his cheek. "What do you want to do to them?" he whispered. It was the same question he'd once asked her mother, the one question that could reveal an entire person's soul.

_I want to make them bow._

"I want to make them suffer."

_I want their kneecaps to crack and freeze on the stones._

"I want to take back the kingdom that is rightfully mine."

_And I want their necks to break from bending_.

"Go on," Rumpelstiltskin urged.

"And I want to tear out Snow's heart and crush it in my fist."

Rumpelstiltskin smiled. "Then you know what to do."

* * *

"No, Emma, no!" Snow looked up in time to see Emma crawling at record pace toward the nursery door. She threw the last linens into the drawer and stood, ready to chase down her baby once again.

"I got you!" She heard Emma's shriek of delight as Charming picked her up and swung her around.

"Dada," she said, grinning. "Mama." She pointed at Snow.

Charming pouted. "Back to Mommy, huh?"

"Mama," Emma repeated.

Snow smiled to herself. Emma's first word may have been "Dada" but she certainly said "Mama" more often now.

"I believe this belongs to you," Charming said as he dropped a giggling Emma into Snow's arms. Snow carried her over to the rocking chair and sat down, bouncing Emma on her lap.

"Can you imagine if we'd missed this?" Charming murmured, pressing a kiss to her hairline.

Snow sighed. "I try not to think about it."

"There've been no reports on Regina's movements," he informed her. "Not since she last visited Rumpelstiltskin. No one knows where she is. Perhaps she's still licking her wounds," he said hopefully.

Snow shook her head. "No. I'm sure she's planning her next move. And if Rumpelstiltskin's helping her…"

"He hasn't seen her in months," Charming assured her. "We have guards at every entrance. Except for the two visits right after the curse failed, Rumpelstiltskin has not seen her."

"She's doing it without him, then," Snow said, biting her lip. "She'll find a way."

"Let's go away," Charming suggested, kneeling in front of her. "Let's leave this place, go back to the farm. We can raise Emma there, keep her safe."

"No," Snow said, shaking her head again. "No. We can't leave the kingdom. We can't leave everyone at her mercy. We will stay together. Fight together."

_Die together._

* * *

"Snow!"

Snow's eyes snapped open. Immediately, she smelled the flames. The night sky was streaked with orange from the fires. Snow ran to the window. The flaming arrows were still coming.

Charming was already dressed, his sword at the ready. "Get Emma," he told her. "Take her somewhere safe. I'll find you."

"But-"

"I will always find you!" Charming called over his shoulder as he sprinted from the room. Snow didn't hesitate, but ran down the hall to Emma's nursery. To her horror, the door was already open.

"Looking for this?"

Regina's sneer made her blood run cold. Snow turned around; Emma was asleep in Regina's arms.

"No," Snow whispered. Tears sprang to her eyes. "No, please."

"Such a precious baby," Regina cooed. Snow took a tentative step forward, but Regina propelled her back with a lazy wave of her hand.

"Let her go," Snow begged as she scrambled to her feet. "Please, take me instead. I'll go with you, I'll give you my heart. Just please, please, don't hurt Emma."

Regina laughed menacingly. "You destroyed my happiness. And now, I'll destroy yours."

"No!" Snow lunged for Regina, but she was gone in a cloud of billowing purple smoke. Snow felt her head smack against the hard castle floor and her world went black.

* * *

Regina reappeared in the nursery with Emma still in her arms just moments later. She smirked at the sight of Snow lying motionless on the ground. So far everything was going according to plan.

As Regina held the baby in her arms, she could feel the magic radiating from Emma. The product of true love, the purest form of magic. True love was powerful enough to break any curse, which she herself had learned the hard way so many times. Now it would be used to create the most powerful curse possible.

Regina knew she had to work quickly. Snow could wake up any moment, not that that was terribly concerning, but Charming had to be around here somewhere, too. Casting the series of curses would certainly be easier if she weren't engaged in a swordfight at the same time.

"That's it, darling, just sleep on," Regina whispered to Emma. "Mommy's just going to borrow a little bit of your magic. I'm sure you won't mind."

With a wave of her hand, it was done. Regina disappeared with Emma before she could see the fruits of her labor, leaving only a path of destruction in her wake.

* * *

She reappeared in a small cottage in the woods. The sudden impact of her landing had shaken Emma awake, and the baby started to cry. Instinctively, Regina tried to quiet her with magic.

It didn't work.

For a moment that stunned her, but then Regina grinned. That was exactly how the curse was supposed to work. There was no more magic. Well, except for the baby currently wailing in her arms.

"Emma, Emma," Regina cooed, bouncing the baby girl gently. "It's all right. Mommy's here. You don't have to cry."

Emma suddenly stopped crying and opened her eyes, peering up at Regina. A look of confusion crossed her face and Regina grew worried. Emma was old enough to know what her mother looked like.

"It's okay, Emma," Regina said soothingly. "I'm going to be your mommy now. She had to go away. But I'll take good care of you. You're all mine now."

She hugged Emma to her chest and to her relief, Emma stayed quiet. Soon, the baby had fallen asleep again. Regina opened the front door and stepped outside, trying to keep Emma as still as possible.

The fires had gone out and now there was nothing but darkness. She could see the castle – _her_ _castle_, now – looming in the distance. She knew that somewhere on the other side, Snow was mourning her daughter. And the irony was, it was her daughter's magic that was keeping those false memories alive.

Regina smiled once more at the castle, and then walked back inside the cottage. She would be queen now, the curse had seen to that. She would finally have everything that she'd wanted.

She could finally be happy.

* * *

"Snow."

Snow looked up from the forest floor to see Charming standing in front of her. She could barely even get out the words.

"She's gone."

"I know."

Snow choked back a sob. "Regina killed her."

Charming sighed heavily. "I know."

"She would have been – she was going to be-" Tears finally overwhelmed her, and Snow broke down, clinging to Charming for dear life, as he clung to her.

* * *

The next six days were a blur. They'd managed to find shelter and set up a makeshift camp. Funerals were held for Bashful and Geppetto, who hadn't survived the siege. They held a funeral for Emma, too, even though they couldn't bury her body. The castle was no longer theirs and attempting to reenter it would be a suicide mission.

The grief on the seventh day was paralyzing. Snow knew Charming felt it, too. He still gave the usual orders as everyone continued to build up the camp, but she knew his heart wasn't in it. That gaping loss, that huge, unfillable hole in her heart.

That knowledge that Emma would have been one today.

Red came into her tent around nightfall. Her friend sat down next to her on the bed, which Snow realized she hadn't left all day. She waited for Red to speak, for her to try to find the words to ease the pain, but none came. Instead, Red said, "Come with me."

Snow allowed Red to lead her from the tent. The rest of the camp was already assembled, and everyone was bathed in light. Snow realized that each person was holding a lantern.

"For Emma," Charming said, offering one to her.

Snow managed a weak smile through her tears. "For Emma," she agreed.

She took Charming's hand, and they released their lanterns together. Snow watched as the two lanterns were joined by a hundred more, illuminating the night sky with warm, yellow light. As the lanterns soared higher, she felt for the first time in a week that maybe there could be light again in the world after all.


	2. Lights Will Appear

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognize belongs to me.

**A/N: **Wow, thank you so much for the fantastic response to the first chapter! I am so glad that so many people thought this story was worth continuing. A special thank you to those of you who submitted reviews. While I love knowing that people are reading this story because they follow or favorite it, I especially appreciate my reviewers because I love knowing what people think of my story. So to all of you reading along, please consider submitting a review!

Many thanks also to my favorite beta Melissa for all her helpful plot advice and skillz.

* * *

It became a yearly tradition.

Every year, without fail, the lights would appear. They floated up from the valley, first two, and then a hundred more. Regina watched them from the other side of the castle, first with a baby Emma in her arms, and then with a toddler by her side. The lights always came on the same day.

She always feared that the lanterns would be accompanied by an ambush, but none ever came. It seemed that no matter how difficult she made life for Snow White and her prince, they would never resort to violence unless attacked first. There were no attempts to retake the castle, no veiled threats. Regina still kept a hundred men at her disposal, although they had nothing to do but guard the impenetrable castle walls. Except for the lights, Regina never heard from Snow and Charming.

The lights would have been a mere nuisance, except for one problem. Emma was older now, and for the first time, she was aware of the lights. They'd appeared last night, and Emma had been mesmerized by them. Regina had done her best to brush off her questions, but she could tell Emma's curiosity was piqued. She knew she would need to find a more permanent solution.

The creak of the floorboard suddenly caught her attention, interrupting her thoughts.

"Emma?"

Four-year-old Emma froze in her tracks, a guilty expression on her face. "Hi, Mommy," she said sheepishly.

"What are you doing?" Regina asked as she stood up from her chair and walked over to the little girl. Regina still couldn't get over how very small and vulnerable she was, especially now as she stared up at Regina with wide eyes.

"I – I just wanted to…" Emma mumbled, looking down at her feet.

"Speak up," Regina reminded her.

Emma met her eyes. "I just wanted to see the lights."

Regina stared at her. Part of her wanted to shake the little girl, to force her to be obedient, to deter her from ever asking questions. From ever learning the truth.

But the other part of her, the part that actually enjoyed being a mother, compelled her to smile. "You mean the stars," she said. "Come on. Let's go see them."

Emma looked overjoyed as Regina took her hand and led her outside. Thankfully, the night sky was clear and several constellations were visible. "See?" Regina said, pointing up. "There are the lights."

"No," Emma said at once, shaking her head. "Those aren't the lights, Mommy!" She giggled as though she found Regina silly. "I want to see the big lights. The floating lights. Like last night."

Regina inhaled sharply. She led Emma back inside to buy herself some time to come up with a suitable answer. She sat back down on the chair and pulled Emma into her lap.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" Emma asked, chewing on her lip. "What's wrong with the lights?"

"Emma," Regina began. "The lights we saw last night are very special. They only appear once a year."

Emma's face fell. "Why?"

"I don't know why," Regina lied. "But I know that's how it is. You'll see them again next year."

A tiny smile crossed Emma's face. "Really?"

"Really," Regina said.

"Promise?"

Regina smiled. "I promise."

Emma sighed and rested her head on Regina's shoulder, closing her eyes. Regina rubbed Emma's back, marveling again at how fragile she was.

"I love you, Emma," Regina murmured.

"I love you more."

"And I love you most."

* * *

"Rumpelstiltskin!"

He gave a theatrical jump and opened his eyes, peering up at Regina through the bars of his cage. He stood up and brushed the dirt from his clothes. "Your Majesty," he said, his lips curling into a smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"There is a problem."

His smile widened. "A problem?"

"Yes, a problem," Regina said impatiently. "The girl. She's becoming a problem."

"What girl?"

Regina gave a soft, angry growl. "You know what girl."

"Perhaps," he said. "But I like to be reminded in any case. Just to make sure we're on the same page."

"Emma."

He cocked his head. "Who's Emma?"

"You know who Emma is!" Regina snapped. "It's _her_ daughter."

"'Her' daughter?" he repeated. "You mean Snow White's daughter? But she's dead, isn't she? Died years ago."

"Do _not_ play games with me, Rumpelstiltskin," Regina hissed. "I know you know who I'm talking about. I didn't do anything to _your_ memories."

"Didn't you?" Rumpelstiltskin taunted her, a wicked grin crossing his face. "Can't be so sure about that, dearie. True love's a magic you never quite understood."

He loved riling her up, seeing her fill with rage. It brought excitement to his days of monotony, wasting away in the terrible dungeon cell. His magic had only been paralyzed before, but now it was completely gone. Regina's latest curse had seen to that. He took little solace in the fact that she didn't have magic either, because as long as she had Emma, she had access to magic.

"She noticed I was missing," Regina said. "She was awake when I came back this morning."

"Four-year-olds are quite inquisitive, aren't they?" Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. "I hardly see the problem, dearie. You know what to do. Just control her."

"I can't control her," Regina said. "I don't have any magic."

"She's magic," Rumpelstiltskin pointed out. "Use her magic to subdue her. Isn't that what you're doing to her family?"

Regina huffed. "I thought you didn't remember anything."

He shrugged. "I lied. You should try it sometime. Four-year-olds, you know. They'll believe anything."

"She didn't believe me when I told her I was there the entire night."

Rumpelstiltskin raised his eyebrows. "I don't remember you needing this much help from me before, dearie. You used to be better than this. Have you grown soft on me?"

"Never," Regina said.

"Then just subdue her," he suggested. "Take her heart and lock it away in that vault of yours. Then you can control her. Make her do whatever you want."

"No." Regina shook her head. "I can't do that."

Rumpelstiltskin smiled. "You _have_ grown soft."

"You _know_ why I can't take her heart, you idiot," Regina snapped, anger resurging. "Because even if I had her heart, I couldn't _make_ her love me. And she needs to love me for this curse to work."

"And she loves you now?"

"The curse is obviously still intact."

"Then find a way to make her love you _more_."

Regina's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I expect you'll figure that out soon, dearie." Rumpelstiltskin made to turn away, but then stopped, meeting Regina's eyes once again. "Just remember: every child wants a hero."

* * *

"Mommy?"

Regina smiled as she tousled Emma's curls. "Yes, my dear?"

"Are you _sure_ there won't be floating lights tonight?"

Regina sighed and sat down on Emma's bed. "We've talked about this, Emma. Those lights are special. They only come once a year."

"I know," Emma said. "But I just thought maybe this year they'd come more than once."

"No, Emma," Regina said. "They're like birthdays; they just come once a year, every year."

Emma looked crestfallen as she laid back against her pillows. "Okay," she said quietly. "But if you see them, will you wake me up?"

"Of course," Regina replied as she kissed Emma's forehead. She turned out the light and was about to stand when Emma's voice stopped her.

"Mommy?"

"Emma?"

"Are you going out again tonight?"

Regina turned the light back on. Emma was looking at her hopefully, although Regina wasn't sure what answer she was wanting to hear.

"I don't know," Regina answered finally. "I haven't decided."

"But why do you have to go out at night?" Emma wanted to know. "Why can't you go during the day?"

"Because you'd miss me if I left during the day," Regina replied.

"But I miss you at night, too," Emma whispered.

_Every child wants a hero_.

Rumpelstiltskin's words echoed in her head as she stared at Emma's face. She was so young, so impressionable. Regina could tell her anything and it would stick.

"Come here," Regina said, patting her lap. Emma crawled out of bed and onto Regina's lap.

"I wanted to keep this from you as long as possible," Regina began, running her hand through Emma's hair. "There are so many bad people out there. People who would do anything to hurt you."

"Like who?"

"Like the Evil Queen," Regina said. "She's the one who controls the castle. She rules very harshly and she makes everyone's lives very difficult. She's the reason we live here, in the cottage, as far away from the village as possible. The world is a very dangerous place because she's ruling it."

"Why is she evil?" Emma asked. "Why can't she be good?"

"I don't know, Emma," Regina said. "Some people are just born evil."

"Does she kill people?" Emma asked, her lower lip trembling.

Regina hesitated. "Sometimes."

She saw tears leaking from the corners of Emma's eyes. "I don't want you to leave, Mommy," Emma whispered. She clung to Regina harder, burying her face in her neck. "Don't leave, please don't leave! I don't want her to kill you!"

Emma's tears momentarily stunned Regina. She was used to Emma crying; she had cried as a baby, and as a toddler when she got hurt. But she had never seen Emma cry over _her_ before. The little girl was more attached to her than she'd thought. This attachment gave her power.

"Emma, Emma," Regina said soothingly. "Don't cry, Emma. She's not going to kill me."

Emma looked up with tearstained cheeks. "She won't?"

"No," Regina assured her, as she brushed tears from Emma's face. "She has to be very careful about what she does because she knows that she's unloved. A lot of people are against her," Regina clarified in response to Emma's confused expression. "They want to take the castle away from her and make her pay for her crimes."

"Do you?" Emma asked.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want to take the castle away from her?"

Regina smiled. "Yes. And that's where I go at night. To help the people trying to get rid of the Evil Queen."

Emma's eyes widened. "Really?"

Regina nodded. "Yes. Because as long as she's in power, you will never be safe. But I won't go tonight," Regina promised, hugging Emma close to her. "They can work without me for one night."

"You're very brave," Emma whispered. "I hope someday I can be brave like you."

"You will be." Regina shifted so that Emma was lying on the bed again, and then covered her with the quilt. "Someday."

Regina turned out the light and was halfway to the door when Emma's voice stopped her yet again. "Mommy?"

"Emma?"

"What was her name?" Emma wanted to know. "The Evil Queen. What was she called before that?"

Regina didn't hesitate before replying, "Snow White."

* * *

Snow watched as the sun dipped below the hills, casting long shadows over the valley. She pulled another arrow out of her quiver, hoping to make one last kill before nightfall, but she couldn't see any movement in the trees. She thought about venturing deeper into the forest, but then decided against it. They had enough food for the evening, and at any rate, she didn't want to be late.

Snow gathered the game she had killed and threw it over her shoulder. The past years she'd spent in the forest were not, on the whole, that different from the years she'd spent in the forest after her father's death. She found that her hunting skills came back naturally. And at least this time, she wasn't alone. The camp Charming had begun to build right after the siege was flourishing; nearly everyone who had survived Regina's takeover of the castle now lived there.

At the same time, Snow's heart was much heavier than it had been all those years ago. Because now she knew what it was like to lose a child, and she was reminded of that loss every day. Her attempts to have another child had been unsuccessful, and after the third miscarriage, Snow had given up for good. She wondered if the magical properties from the water of Lake Nostos had somehow worn off, and she'd again become infertile, or if she was just extremely unlucky. As much as she wanted a child, sometimes she was secretly glad she couldn't have another one. She was worried it would feel too much like replacing Emma.

"There you are," Charming said as Snow reached their tent and deposited the three hares she had caught at his feet. "I was starting to get worried."

Snow smiled and kissed him. "No need to worry," she said lightly. "Red come back yet?"

"Yes," Charming replied as he put the hares over the fire. "She's lighting the lanterns now."

What had started as a simple tradition had grown into a full-blown ritual. The entire camp would gather and eat by the light of the lanterns before sending the lights into the sky. Snow had also noticed that the number of lanterns grew larger each year as more and more people joined them. Judging by the number of people in the camp now, it seemed that everyone in the entire valley who opposed Regina had turned up to launch a lantern.

There was never any response from Regina, not that she expected one. Snow knew there were more direct courses of action, but none of them seemed worth taking. Yet, anyway. She hadn't given up hope of retaking her castle one day, and knew Charming hadn't either.

Snow eyed the glowing lanterns around the camp. On this day, she was surrounded by light, but her heart was still heavy. Her world was still dark. She caught Charming's eye and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

Emma would have been nine today.

* * *

The question came again one night, late, after Regina had tucked her into bed.

"Mother?"

She'd grown up in the blink of an eye. Somehow the toddler had become a teenager, and Mommy had become Mother. It didn't feel like twelve years, but every now and then, she'd look at Emma and remember that it had been.

"Yes?"

"Will you take me to see the floating lights this year?"

Regina stared at her. "The what?" she asked, playing for time.

"The floating lights," Emma repeated, sitting up and pointing out the window. "The special lights that come once a year."

"Oh." Regina frowned. "How do you know when they're coming?"

"I've been keeping track!" Emma said proudly. She pulled out a pad of paper from under her pillow and showed it to Regina. The page was covered in tally marks. "It's been three hundred and sixty-four days since we last saw the lights."

Regina's eyes widened. "How did you learn to count so high?"

"I'm _twelve_, Mother. I'm not a baby anymore. I know how to count," Emma said indignantly.

"Right," Regina said. "Of course you do."

"So…?" Emma looked at her expectantly.

Regina hesitated at the hopeful expression on Emma's face. She knew that her answer would crush her, but she also knew it couldn't be helped. She smoothed the covers on Emma's bed. "Emma, you know why you can't go outside."

"Because it's dangerous," Emma supplied.

"Yes," Regina said. "Because it's dangerous. There are people out there who want to do bad things to little girls like you."

"But I'm not a little girl anymore," Emma pointed out. "I'm twelve years old! I can take care of myself."

"I know," Regina said. "But I'm doing this to keep you safe. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you."

Emma huffed in annoyance. "You worry too much."

"I worry too much?" Regina repeated. "Emma, you cannot underestimate the Evil Queen. She doesn't care how old you are. Just last week, she massacred an entire village."

Emma's face paled. "She what?"

"She killed an entire village," Regina said. "Over two hundred people. Including children." It wasn't a complete lie, seeing as the village had only been fifty people.

"Okay," Emma said quietly, looking down at her hands. "You're right, I'm sorry."

Regina sighed. "I'm sorry, too. I'm trying to make the world safer for you. Someday you will be able to leave. Good will win."

"But until then, I stay here?"

"Yes," Regina said. She paused, and then added, "I'm sorry that I can't take you to see the floating lights. But we can watch the floating lights together from the window. Like we did last year."

"Like we do every year," Emma mumbled, a hint of bitterness in her voice. Regina chose to ignore it as she reached over to turn off the light.

"Mother?"

"Emma?"

"Will you take me next year? When I'm older?"

Regina turned off the light so that Emma couldn't see the frown that crossed her face. "We'll see," she said finally. She walked to the door and then stopped. "I love you," she reminded her.

"I love you more."

"And I love you most."

* * *

"We have a problem."

Rumpelstiltskin merely blinked. "If there is a problem, _you_ are the only one with a problem, dearie. There stopped being a _we_ over a decade ago, when you decided to keep me here in this cell."

Regina smirked. "Bitter, are we?"

He didn't respond, but considered her aggravated expression. He could guess what the problem was. "You know I never raised a child past the age of twelve," Rumpelstiltskin said softly. "So I don't have much advice in that area."

"She wants to leave," Regina said. "She wants to see the world."

He shrugged. "So let her."

"No!" Regina exclaimed. "She can't leave – if she gets out, if she learns the truth-"

"So control the circumstances, dearie."

Regina gaped at him. "What?"

"As I said before, every child wants a hero."

* * *

The dead leaves and branches jabbed into his stomach as he laid down at the top of the hill. From his position, he could just make out the road below. He hadn't been told any details about this mission, just that it was on orders from the queen. And young as he was, a fresh recruit at twenty-one, he knew enough to know that no one disobeyed orders from the queen.

"Hey," the soldier next to him hissed. "What's your name?"

"Just call me the Huntsman."

"Huntsman, eh?" the soldier said. "I guess you can call me the Butcher." He laughed. "Listen, Huntsman. Can you explain something to me?"

"What?" he whispered back, carefully watching the road. He didn't want to miss the targets.

"They told us we're aiming to injure, not kill. And there'll be two of them. We're supposed to go for the smaller one."

"They're coming!" someone else shouted.

"Any idea what that means?"

"Arrows at the ready!"

There was no time to reply. He quietly drew an arrow from his quiver as his comrade did the same. Two figures had appeared on the road, both cloaked and on foot. The taller one raised the lantern and he saw her face. Suddenly the orders made more sense. He nearly dropped his bow in surprise.

"Fire!"

* * *

The arrows came out of nowhere, just as she'd hoped they would.

"Duck!" Regina shouted, throwing her lantern aside and shoving Emma to the ground. She could feel Emma's entire body trembling as she covered it with her own. She heard the swoosh of arrows as they rained down from above and landed in the dirt road. So far none of them had hit her. She trusted her men to do this right.

Emma's screams pierced the night as one of the arrows hit its mark in her thigh. Regina quickly covered her mouth.

"I'm right here, I'll protect you," she whispered. "Just stay quiet. Play dead. They'll leave if they think they've got us."

She felt Emma's lips moving beneath her hand as she shook with silent cries. After another minute, the thundering of footsteps could be heard as the men ran off. Regina slowly exhaled and rolled off of Emma. She retrieved the lantern and raised it to see that Emma's leg was covered in blood.

"It's all right, it's all right, darling," she soothed as Emma started to cry. "This will hurt now, but I have to take it out." Regina didn't wait for a response, but pulled the arrow out of Emma's leg. Thankfully, it hadn't gone in very deep. She quickly removed her cloak and tied it around the wound, and then scooped Emma into her arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Emma sobbed as Regina carried her back to the cottage.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Regina said firmly. "You did nothing wrong. It's the Evil Queen's men. They do this to people, they attack people. They hurt people."

"I wish we'd never left," Emma cried.

Regina smiled to herself in the darkness.

* * *

As the years went by, Regina began spending more time away from Emma. Her days were spent in the castle listening to reports from her guards about what village was planning to revolt when. Emma became more independent as Regina left her alone, but she never left the cottage. The ambush from five years ago still served as a reminder of the dangers of the outside world. Since the attack, Regina had ordered guards to stand outside the cottage doors at all times. While she told Emma they were for her own protection, Regina also knew the guards would keep her in, should she ever grow overly curious of the outside world. Every day, Regina came back with the reports about the latest violence, in case the scar left on Emma's leg from the arrow wasn't enough of a reminder.

The resistance movement only continued to grow. What started with one village of fifty people became dozens of villages, hundreds of people strong. While her troops always managed to subdue them, the battles were becoming quite costly. As far as Regina could tell, Snow and Charming's camp in the valley was not involved in any of the fighting, but it was clear that the villages that were revolting wanted Snow White to be their queen. She needed to find a way to quash these rebellions once and for all.

And she knew exactly how to do it.

"Your Highness?"

Regina looked up and smiled at the man standing in her doorway. "Huntsman," she greeted him. "Come in, please."

"I was told you had a mission for me," he said as he entered.

"I do," Regina said, her smile deepening as she gestured for him to sit down. He remained standing, which surprised and intrigued her. Huntsmen were apparently not like her troops, who fell over themselves in an effort to appease her.

"I need something done about this rebellion," she began.

He raised his eyebrows. "I hardly think I'll be more effective than your vast armies."

"Oh, I think you will be," Regina said. "You've heard of Snow White?"

The huntsman nodded. "I have."

"I need something from her." Regina pulled out a dagger and handed it to him.

He eyed the knife uncertainly. "I don't need a weapon to negotiate."

Regina chuckled. "This time you might."

"What do you want from her?" he asked, still staring at the knife.

Regina tilted his chin so he met her eyes. She could feel his nervous breath on her face as she hissed, "Her heart."

* * *

**A/N:** A quick note on time – it is passing. However, I know that Graham on the show is around the same age as the Charmings. In this story, he's about twenty years younger than them, which would put him closer in age to Emma (otherwise there would be like a thirty year age difference). Hope that's not too confusing for people!


	3. The Outcasts

**Disclaimer:** I still own nothing.

**A/N:** Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, or who has put this story on their follow or favorite list. Seriously, the wonderful response that this story has received means the world to me and gives me the inspiration and encouragement to continue. Thank you, thank you!

Much thanks to Melissa for betaing. Love ya!

* * *

He staggered out of the meeting ten minutes later, the hilt of the queen's dagger clenched in his sweaty palm. He didn't speak to any of the guards on the way out, eager to get as far away from the castle as possible. He hurried through the corridors, acknowledging the guard at the door only a nod.

He began to run as soon as he got outside. If the Evil Queen was watching, she would probably think he was running off to fulfill her demand, eager to become a murderer on her orders. He had heard stories about her evilness, rumors that she didn't have a heart, or that she kept it hidden away in some chamber. He had no idea if the rumors were true, but he was sure that he had never met a more heartless person in his entire life.

He'd known for five years that she was capable of the darkest forms of evil. Ever since he'd seen her drag an innocent teenager into an ambush, he'd had the feeling that there was something wrong with this woman. He'd resigned from the army the very next day, knowing he could never face the rest of his company again, knowing that they were willing to shoot at an unarmed girl, even willing to hit her, when it was all too easy to aim the arrow into the dirt, as he had. He had no idea who the girl was, and no one else had seemed to know either.

His heart threatened to pound out of his chest as he ran deeper into the woods, a painful and vivid reminder of the task he had been set. No one refused orders from the Evil Queen; he knew that. The penalty for refusing an order was death.

It was Snow White's life or his.

* * *

Emma watched as the sun dipped lower behind the castle and wondered if her mother would be back soon. From what she had told her, war was imminent. Emma knew that meant her mother would be spending even more time away from her.

Emma sighed and rubbed her leg. It had been several years since the attack, but she could still feel the sting of the arrow as it cut into her flesh. The scar was a reminder of what was waiting outside: danger at every turn. She didn't know how her mother could stand to put herself in such danger every day, at the mercy of the Evil Queen, but Emma did admire her bravery.

Emma drummed her fingers on the windowsill as it grew darker outside. She knew she should start cooking something for dinner, but she wanted to wait to see if Regina would come home first. It wouldn't be the first time this week that Emma had eaten alone, but she hoped that her mother would come home tonight. She had promised to try; after all, it was a special day.

As if on cue, Emma heard the lock turn in the door and she turned around. Regina was pulling off her cloak and Emma ran forward to help, exhaling a sigh of relief that her mother had survived another day.

"There's my favorite girl," Regina said, pulling Emma into a hug after the cloak had been hung. "How was your day?"

"Fine," Emma replied. "Better now that you're here."

Regina smiled at her. "I promised I'd be here, didn't I? Wouldn't want to break the tradition." She rummaged in one of her pockets and then pulled out a small package. "Happy birthday, Emma."

Emma unwrapped the package to reveal a pendant on a gold chain. The pendant was a lantern, identical to the ones she loved seeing in the sky every year. "Thank you, Mother!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her. "I love it!"

"I knew you would," Regina said as gestured for Emma to turn around so she could do the clasp for her. "I thought that since you were eighteen now, you should have something nice."

"Am I really eighteen?" Emma asked as she turned back around. "You never know – I might still be seventeen."

"I guess I can't be sure," Regina said after a moment's hesitation. "But you're eighteen to me, and that's what matters. You were about a year old when I found you, and that was seventeen years ago to the day."

Emma smiled. "I'm glad you found me."

"So am I," Regina agreed.

Emma looked down, admiring the pendant, working up the courage to ask what she'd wanted to know for so long. "Did you know them?"

"Who?"

"My parents." Emma glanced up to gauge her mother's reaction, but Regina's face was unreadable.

"No," Regina answered finally. "No, I never knew them."

"Oh," was all Emma could say. She moved toward the stove to begin making dinner, but Regina called her back.

"Emma?"

"Yes, Mother?"

Regina took both her hands. "You know that we're family, right?"

"Of course," Emma said at once. "I didn't mean-"

"No, of course you didn't," Regina said quickly. "It's just – I just want you to know whatever happens, we'll always have each other."

Emma titled her head. "What do you mean?" she wanted to know. "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know," her mother said after a moment. "Things are looking pretty bad right now. It looks like the Evil Queen is preparing for war."

"Does that mean you're going to fight?" Emma felt her pulse quicken. It was bad enough that her mother left every day to assist the rebellion; she wasn't sure she could stand it if Regina left for days on end to fight in a war.

"I don't know," Regina replied. "I have been asked, but I haven't said yes. I wanted to know what you thought first."

"Oh." Emma chewed on her lip, thinking hard. She could tell her mother the truth, that she didn't want her to go, that she'd be scared for her and couldn't live without her. But she also knew that there were other families out there, with children who didn't want their parents to go to war either, and it would be selfish to make her mother stay.

"Do you want to fight?" Emma asked quietly.

Her mother sighed. "I don't want to leave you," she replied. "But I also want you to have a better life than I had."

Emma considered this, playing with her new pendant, the symbol of the rebellion. She thought of all the people who sent lanterns up each year, all the people whose lives would be better if the Evil Queen were no longer in power. There had been thousands of lanterns in the sky last year, and she expected even more this year. Thousands of lives that could be saved by fighting one last war.

Finally Emma looked up. "Then I think you should go."

Regina smiled. "I think I should, too."

* * *

He stopped running as he drew nearer to the campsite. Snow White's camp in the valley was by far the largest camp, even though it had never been directly involved in a revolt. He didn't know Snow White personally, and he had to wonder if she showed restraint because she was pragmatic and knew others would do the fighting for her, or if she truly didn't want to hurt Regina.

There were several makeshift tents set up on the outskirts of the camp, and after a moment, he realized why. The lanterns were going up in a week. That yearly tradition drew well over a thousand families to the camp now, and some of them traveled many miles to launch a lantern. It seemed strange that so many of them would show up a week early, and he wondered if it had anything to do with the rebellion the Evil Queen was so worried about.

And she certainly had reason to be worried. Tyrants were always most afraid of the people they tried to suppress. The Evil Queen had been suppressing these refugees for almost twenty years now. That was a lot of resentment to overcome. He couldn't blame them for wanting to rise against her.

"Are you lost?"

He turned around and his breath caught in his throat. Snow White, the very woman he was supposed to kill, was standing before him. She was as beautiful as he had heard, with her long dark hair pulled back into a braid, and a kind expression on her lined face. The dagger suddenly felt ten times heavier in his hand.

"Did you hear me?" she asked uncertainly when he still hadn't responded. "Do you need help?"

He finally managed to swallow and unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "Uh – no." He cleared his throat. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Do you need a place to stay?" she asked, glancing over him. At once he felt very self-conscious about his haggard appearance. She probably thought he was one of the refugees who'd come to light a lantern. "My husband and I have room for you."

The tenderness in her voice made him sick. If she knew what he'd been sent there to do, if she knew about the dagger he held in his hand behind his back, would she still look at him with such concern in her eyes? Would she invite him into her home?

"I'm okay," he muttered. "I'm not planning to stay. I – I just-"

"Are you sure you're all right?" Snow asked. "You're quite pale." She considered him for a moment. "Please have dinner with us. You look like you could use a good meal."

He immediately shook his head. "No, I'm sorry," he replied. He hoped she wouldn't find his refusal rude, but he couldn't bear to stay with her another minute. "I really must go. Thank you."

He turned away, but she caught his arm. "Wait," she said. Unwillingly, he turned back around to face her. "If you ever need help, we're here. You will always find help here." He only nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and Snow smiled and let go of his arm.

As he watched her make her way toward the camp, he was more certain than ever that he could never sacrifice Snow's heart to keep his own. A life saved at her expense was not a life worth living.

* * *

Regina woke early the next morning. The rest of the cottage was quiet; it didn't sound like Emma hadn't gotten up yet. She lay in bed for several minutes, staring up at the ceiling, savoring the last moments of peace. The calm before the storm.

She was leaving Emma today for – Regina didn't know how long. She wasn't sure when the war would start, but she needed to be ready when it did. She had to be prepared to go into battle at a moment's notice; she couldn't worry about having to make up another lie to tell Emma. The guards outside the cottage would keep Emma inside, she was sure of it. If for no other reason than the fact that the penalty for insubordination was death.

The stakes were so much higher now. As the rebellion spread, so did the chances that Emma would get wind of the truth. Everyone knew Snow White's name now. Regina didn't want to admit to herself that she'd made a mistake in telling Emma that Snow White was the Evil Queen, but she was starting to regret that decision, if only because Snow White was such a recognizable name. It would be all too easy for Emma to hear of Snow White, the leader of the rebellion against the Evil Queen, and for Emma to unravel the lie.

Regina was startled by a sudden knock on her door. "Come in," she called. The door opened and Emma stepped inside.

"You're up early, Mother," she observed as she closed the door behind her. "I didn't think you'd be up yet." Regina patted the space next to her on the bed and Emma sat down. Regina noticed she was still wearing the lantern pendant.

"I know," Regina said. "I couldn't sleep."

"Are you nervous?" Emma asked quietly.

Regina didn't answer, but pressed a kiss into Emma's hair. Even now, after seventeen years, she still marveled at the fact that Emma was so devoted to her. She had never felt that kind of love from anyone before, not since Daniel. She knew that Rumpelstiltskin would laugh at her for thinking Emma truly loved her; that imp would say she had brainwashed Emma into obedience. But the fact of the matter was, Emma's love was sustaining the curse. It had to be real, or Regina would no longer be the queen.

"You'll follow the rules while I'm gone?" Regina asked instead, tilting Emma's chin so she met her eyes. "You'll stay here?"

Emma's face fell slightly and she bit her lip. Regina frowned at her. "Emma?"

"I just thought that maybe…" Emma's voice trailed off.

"Don't mumble," Regina chastised her.

Emma cleared her throat. "I just thought that maybe you should ask the men standing guard to leave. They should fight with you."

Regina shook her head. "No. It's too dangerous out there."

"They're guards," Emma pointed out. "They'll be fine. They'll probably be better off than you!"

"I'm not talking about them," Regina said, fighting off a flare of annoyance. "I'm talking about you."

"I'm not going to go outside just because they leave," Emma protested. Regina raised her eyebrows at her. "I'm not!" She sighed. "I just think it's wrong that they're here, watching me do nothing, when they should be helping you fight the Evil Queen."

Regina considered this. She had to acknowledge that Emma made an unfortunately good point. Emma would find it suspicious if there was a war going on, but some men were still standing guard over the cottage instead of fighting like everyone else. She couldn't risk Emma growing suspicious. On the other hand, without the guards, Regina had no way of knowing that Emma would actually stay inside.

_But_, Regina realized,_ there are other ways to make sure she doesn't get far._

Regina shifted so that she was sitting directly in front of Emma and placed her hands on her shoulders. "Emma, listen to me. You're right that the men outside should fight, too. And I will ask them to fight with me. But you have to _promise_ me that you won't leave. The world outside is a dark and dangerous place." She placed one hand over Emma's scar on her leg. "You can't ever forget that."

"I know-"

"No, you don't know," Regina corrected her. "The Evil Queen is a monster. She will rip out your heart and crush it to pieces in front of you. _I _am going to fight her because I love you. But I need you to stay here, safe and sound. I can't fight for you if I'm worried about you." Regina saw that Emma was hanging onto her every word, so she added, "I wouldn't fight if I didn't have you. Don't make me lose you."

"You won't lose me," Emma promised. "I won't leave."

Regina opened her arms and Emma leaned into her chest. "You won't lose me either," she said. "I'm going to fight harder than anyone to come back to you. The Evil Queen fights only for herself because she has no one else. But I'm going to fight harder than her, because I have you."

She heard Emma sigh and Regina kissed her head again. "I love you, Emma. So much. Don't forget that."

Emma sat up straighter and gazed up at Regina, her eyes wide and sincere. "I love you more, Mother."

"But I love you most."

* * *

By dawn on the third day, he had reached the forest on the other side of the castle. He'd spent an entire day and two sleepless nights hiking back up the valley and taking the long way around the castle, hidden under the cover of trees. He was just grateful to have made it this far without running into any of the queen's men. He knew he was no match for them in this state.

His entire body screamed in protest as he pushed himself further away from the castle. Despite the daylight, he still found it difficult to see. The trees swam before him; he could have passed the same groups of trees five times over, and still thought he was making progress. He knew he had to find water, and fast. The dehydration was taking a heavy toll.

So far, he had been avoiding the streams because the Evil Queen's armies were sure to have their camps around them, but now he had no choice. He sank to his knees in front of the first stream that he saw. The icy water soothed his face and his dry throat, and he gulped it down greedily. As he leaned forward to scoop up more water, a strange reflection caught his eye. He froze and then closed his eyes for several seconds before opening them again.

The wolf was still there.

Slowly, not wanting to startle her (somehow, he was sure it was a her), he raised his head. The wolf was staring serenely at him from across the stream. He realized as soon as he thought it how stupid he sounded. _Wolves don't stare_.

He wondered if the wolf was a hallucination. At this point, he couldn't be sure of anything. He watched as the wolf slowly nodded at him (_wolves don't nod,_ he reminded himself) and then turned around. Her tail swished from side to side, as though beckoning him to follow.

He was on his feet before he could think. He had no idea where she was taking him, if she was taking him anywhere at all. She moved quickly and he nearly tripped over his feet trying to keep up with her. She didn't seem to notice that it was much easier for her to navigate the uneven terrain than for him.

Finally, she stopped. He blinked several times to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing.

She'd stopped in front of a cottage.

He started toward it immediately, hoping it was real and not a hallucination. If it was a cottage, it probably had food and water. It had shelter. It would give him a place to rest. The cottage swam before him as he approached it, but he had to reach it. Maybe someone inside could help him. The wolf ran back into the forest after giving one last howl.

Blindly, he raised his hand to knock on the door. He got one look at the girl who opened it a few moments later before his legs gave out from under him and his world faded to black.

* * *

**A/N:** It's here, it's here, the Gremma is here! Well, it will be next chapter. Please show my story some love with a review and I'll try to post again soon!


	4. Mercy

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognize is mine.

**A/N:** Thank you so, so much to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and/or followed the last chapter. I really appreciate all the support. I'm sorry this one took me a bit longer to post. I've been swamped with real life stuff. BUT all of your love and support really encourages me to keep going, so please keep it up.

Much thanks to Melissa for sucking it up and betaing, despite having died at pictures of Jamie Dornan.

* * *

Emma sighed and finished drying the last dish before replacing it in the cabinet. Her mother had been gone for two days now, and while Emma was used to spending time alone, she was starting to get lonely. She hadn't realized just how monotonous her days would be when she didn't have her mother to bring back updates about the exciting (albeit scary) things happening in the outside world.

She dried her hands and then moved back into her favorite chair by the window. She had stayed true to her word not to leave the cottage, despite the fact the guards were gone. Emma's curiosity of the outside world was matched only by her fear of it.

Suddenly, a wolf howled loudly, causing Emma to start. She'd never heard wolves in the middle of the day. She looked outside the window, but she didn't see anything out of the ordinary. All she could see were trees. There was no wolf in sight. Emma wondered if she'd just imagined it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Emma ran to the door, but hesitated before opening it. Her mother wouldn't have knocked. Would she have sent someone to check on her? Was it – Emma's stomach clenched – was it someone coming to tell her that her mother had been killed? Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the knob.

A haggard-looking man stood before her, peering down at her through glassy eyes. He swayed slightly and Emma reached out to him, but not fast enough. She cried out as he fell to the ground.

"Are you all right? Can you stand?"

But he didn't respond. Emma rolled him onto his back and saw that his eyes were closed. His skin felt like fire and his ragged breaths were hot against her hand. She reached for the man's shoulders and pulled him into the cottage. She almost dragged him into her bedroom before realizing that she'd never be able to lift him onto the bed. Instead she left him in the living room and then ran to retrieve the covers and pillows from her bed to make him a makeshift one on the floor. She tucked one of the pillows behind his head and then covered him with the blankets.

She stepped back, surveying him carefully, wondering what else she should do. If she were this sick, her mother would probably try to bring her fever down. Emma walked back to the sink and ran cool water over a towel to make a compress. She sat down next to him and placed the towel on his forehead. He moaned softly at her touch.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to bring your fever down."

He mumbled something incoherent in response. Emma shifted the towel to the back of his neck.

"Her heart," he muttered. "Can't take…her heart."

"You don't have to," Emma said soothingly, although she wasn't sure he could hear her. "You don't have to take anyone's heart."

She felt him begin to shiver and quickly removed the towel. Emma pulled the blankets up higher so they were tucked around his shoulders, but the shaking just got worse. Emma bit her lip nervously. What if she had made him too cold?

His teeth began to chatter and he moaned as though in pain. Emma instinctively pulled him toward her, wrapping her arms around him from behind. She surprised even herself with her decision. She'd never met anyone else before, and now she had her arms around a perfect stranger. She tightened her grip around him, remembering how her mother would hold her when she was sick. Slowly his body relaxed and the chattering stopped. Emma exhaled a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"What happened to you?" she muttered as she reached for the pillow. She lifted his head so she could slide the pillow between his head and her lap. She kept one hand on his shoulder, ready to hold him if he began to shake again. Even through the blankets, she could feel the heat radiating from him.

As she listened to his breathing even out, Emma realized it was the first time anyone besides her mother had been in the cottage. The guards came in from time to time, but they never stayed long. Her mother never invited anyone over. Emma bit her lip. She probably wouldn't like that Emma had let someone in.

Emma shook her head. She'd worry about that later. "It's okay," she murmured, more to herself than him, as she ran her hand up and down his back. She had no idea if he could hear her, but she dropped her voice lower anyway as she whispered, "I'll take care of you."

* * *

Regina stared out the window as her army rode out from the castle to put down the latest uprising. The number of rebellions only continued growing as it drew nearer to the launching of the lanterns. There were rumors that if Snow and Charming were going to make a move, that's when it would be. In the meantime, Regina's armies would be kept busy by the proxy wars.

Regina wondered if the huntsman would return to her today. She would have known if he'd done it already; Snow White was clearly still alive, or the rebellions would have ended. She knew there was always the chance Snow's death would incite more rebellion, but Regina knew that no one else but Snow could usurp her as queen. She wasn't too worried about the delay yet; after all, Snow's camp was most likely hard to infiltrate. But she also knew that the longer Snow stayed alive, the greater the chance of a rebellion that she couldn't contain.

Regina moved away from the window as her thoughts turned to Emma. Just as she'd promised, she had called off the guards from the cottage. She knew that the memory of the ambush still haunted Emma and that she would probably be sufficiently scared not to disobey, but there was no way Regina could be sure. And with the oncoming war, she couldn't risk Emma running around outside. Not only would she be in danger of getting caught in a battle, but she also might stumble upon the truth. Either would put the curse in jeopardy, and Regina couldn't allow that. Not when she was so close to winning.

She could ask Rumpelstiltskin for help, but she already knew what he would say. _Change the circumstances, dearie_, she could hear the imp muttering. _You can control her from afar._

"Guards!" Regina yelled.

It only took seconds for two of them to come running. She could hear them before she saw them; their armor clattered loudly when they moved. In less than a minute, they stood before her.

"Your Majesty?" the taller of the two asked.

"How many men can we spare?"

They looked at each other. "Depends," the first one responded.

"On what?"

"How many more revolts we have to put down."

Regina narrowed her eyes. These revolts were growing quite tiresome. She thought for a moment, and then said, "I want five men to go to the cottage in the woods. No uniforms. They should prepare to stay there a while. Close to the cottage, but not close enough that they can see it."

"I thought we'd been called off the cottage," the shorter one said, frowning.

"That's why you're staying out of sight," Regina snapped.

"But if we're out of sight, how will we make sure your girl stays in?"

Regina smiled. "You don't. You just have to make sure she regrets it if she leaves."

* * *

As soon as he returned to consciousness, he regretted it. His entire body ached and his throat felt like sandpaper. A low groan escaped his lips as he opened his eyes.

He was staring up at a ceiling he had never seen before, and his body was covered in an unfamiliar blanket. He blinked, trying to take in his surroundings. It looked like he was in someone's house.

_The cottage_, he realized. Someone must have taken him in.

"You're awake!"

He turned his head toward the sound of the girl's voice. It was the same girl who had answered the door. She had long blonde hair that she pushed behind her ears as she knelt down beside him, her light eyes wide with concern.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. "I made soup."

He wasn't hungry, but he wanted something hot so he nodded. She smiled at him and then stood up. He watched as she walked over to a small stove and began ladling the broth into a bowl. There was something familiar about her, like he had seen her before, but he couldn't remember where.

"Can you sit up?" she asked as she carried the steaming bowl over to him.

He wasn't sure but he knew he had to try. His arms shook as he pushed himself into a sitting position. She set the bowl down and helped lean him against the back of a chair, replacing the pillow behind his head. She placed a book in his lap and then set the bowl of soup on top of it before handing him the spoon.

He could barely swallow. The hot liquid burned his mouth and throat as it trickled down. He began to cough and she stared at him in alarm. His eyes watered as the coughing grew worse. He hadn't noticed she'd left until she was back, pushing a glass of water into his hands.

Swallowing the water hurt, too, but he could do it. He gulped it down, vaguely aware of how long it had been since he'd had a drink. When he finished the glass, she went to refill it, and he gulped that down, too.

"Who – who are you?" he rasped as she returned with the glass for the third time. "What's your name?"

"Emma," she replied as she sat down next to him. "What's yours?"

_I don't have one_, was his first answer, but he realized that wouldn't make sense. Everyone he knew (admittedly, very few people) called him the Huntsman. He had never bothered with lasting friendships. But he didn't want her to call him the Huntsman. It seemed too cold, impersonal, for someone who was nursing him back to health.

"Graham," he said finally. "My name is Graham."

"Graham," she repeated. "It's nice to meet you."

He nodded in return, his mouth full of soup. The warm liquid soothed his raw throat. He wondered how long he'd been there, how long she'd been taking care of him. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had taken care of him.

"How did you get here?" Emma asked.

_A wolf led me here._ "I walked."

"I know that," Emma replied. "I just meant…" She hesitated, glancing at him uncertainly, before continuing, "I just meant that your clothes are all dirty. You look like you've been walking in the woods for a long time."

"A few days," he muttered.

"Is that how you got sick?" she wanted to know. "Because you were out there in the woods? What were you doing out there?"

He lowered his spoon, considering her. Her face was so hauntingly familiar, and yet he couldn't place it. Her eyes were young and innocent, as though she'd never been touched by darkness. She was looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"I was running from someone," he said finally. "The Evil Queen."

Emma's eyes widened. "The Evil Queen is chasing you?"

He shook his head. "No. She doesn't leave the castle."

Emma frowned. "Then why were you running?"

"She ordered me to kill someone," he explained. "But I couldn't do it. And if she finds out I didn't, she'll kill me."

She gasped. "Who did she want you to kill?"

He could tell her, but he didn't want to make her look more horrified than she already did. "Just – just one of her enemies."

"That's terrible," Emma said with a shudder.

"I know," he said. "But I didn't have a choice. I'm a huntsman and she gave me an order. You can't refuse an order from the Queen."

She looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry." But then she smiled at him. "You can stay here as long as you like. I'm hiding from her, too."

"Are you here all alone?" he asked, glancing around. It seemed like a large cottage for just one person.

"Right now I am," Emma replied. "My mother left to join the rebellion. She said everyone's preparing to fight."

He nodded. "That's right."

"Are you going to join them?" she wanted to know. "If you defeat her, then maybe you won't have to murder anyone. She can't hurt you if she's no longer queen."

"I don't know," he said. "Are you?"

Emma shook her head. "No. I promised my mother I wouldn't leave. She says it's too dangerous out there."

He noticed how her face fell as she said it. "She's not wrong," he told her.

"I know," Emma said, and she sighed. "I went outside once. But I was attacked by the Evil Queen's men. I haven't left again since."

His mouth fell open. Of course that's why she looked familiar. She was the girl, the one the Evil Queen had dragged into the ambush. What hold could the Evil Queen possibly have over Emma's family that she would have dragged a teenager into an arrow fight? She must have been punishing them for something. His insides clenched with anger.

"Graham?"

He couldn't look at her. He didn't deserve her care, not after what he'd done to her. She'd been hurt in that attack. He remembered hearing her screaming in pain as one of the arrows hit her. If she knew what he had done to her…

"Graham, are you all right?" Emma's voice was louder this time.

"Yes, I'm fine," he managed to say. He gave her a weak smile. "Just tired."

Emma nodded. "You should rest." She reached for the bowl and stood up. "Do you want to move to a bed? I would have put you there before, but I couldn't lift you."

He shook his head. The thought of sleeping in her bed, or her mother's bed, after what he had done to her was more than he could bear. "I'm fine here," he said.

Emma looked uncertain. "If you're sure…"

"I'm sure," he interrupted. As she turned to bring the bowl back to the kitchen, he said, "Emma?"

"Yes?" she asked as she looked back at him.

"Thank you for saving me."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

* * *

**A/N:** We've finally reached the Gremma! I'll try to post again soon, and in the meantime, I would very much appreciate your thoughts in the form of a review!


	5. The Dead Don't Talk

**Disclaimer: **Nothing you recognize belongs to me.

**A/N:** Wow, such a wonderful response to the last chapter. I'm so thrilled that people are loving the Gremma. I'm loving it, too! Special shoutout to my anonymous reviewers **Lena** (you're always so faithful, I love it!) and **LadyLola**, whom I can't thank personally. You all rock. Seriously, thank you to everyone who is showing such love and support for this story. I really couldn't do it without you.

I struggled while writing this chapter, but I think it's my favorite so far. My twin soul beta **Melissa** agrees. Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Emma woke early the next morning. She was sleeping in her mother's bed, having given all of her own bedding to Graham, who had insisted on sleeping on the floor in the living room. She couldn't understand why he kept refusing her offer of a bed, but after being refused for the second time, she had simply given up. Perhaps, she mused, being a huntsman, he was used to sleeping on the ground and preferred it to a mattress.

Emma got up, dressed, and then tiptoed into the living room. She didn't want to wake Graham. Although he had looked better after the soup, he still seemed weak. She wondered how long he'd been alone in the woods. As she passed his sleeping form, she thought about the task he had been given. The thought of him murdering anyone made her sick, as did the impossible situation he was in now. It was kill or be killed, and he had chosen the latter. Emma admired his bravery, but she worried about his safety. Would he have to spend the rest of her life wondering when the Evil Queen would come for him?

No, Emma told herself. The Evil Queen would be defeated, and Graham and everyone else who had suffered would finally be free.

"You're up early."

Emma jumped and turned around. Graham was sitting up. She smiled and walked over to him. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

He shook his head. "I'm used to rising with the sun."

"How do you feel?" Emma asked as she knelt down in front of him. She wanted to touch his forehead to gauge his fever, but she didn't want to be too forward. She'd had no qualms about dragging him into her home when he'd been unconscious, but now that he was awake, gazing at her with soft brown eyes, she suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"Better," he said.

"You sound better," Emma noted, although she thought he still looked pale. She hesitated, and then asked, "Do you mind if I…?" She gestured to his forehead.

He shook his head and Emma pressed the back of her hand against his skin. He still felt warm, although not nearly as bad as yesterday. "I don't think your fever's broken yet." She pulled her hand back. "Do you want more soup? There's some leftover from yesterday."

"Sure," he replied. Emma turned away, but he called her back. "Can you – I need to get up."

"I can bring the soup to you."

"No, it's not that." He grimaced as he tried to stand. Emma moved forward to help him. "I'd like to use the bathroom."

"Oh!" Emma exclaimed. She could have hit herself. She wondered why she hadn't thought of that and immediately wished she had. She reached for his hands and she felt callouses on his as he covered her palm with his. She saw how his legs were shaking beneath him as he stood for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours. "Can you walk?"

"I think so," he said, nodding. Emma let go of his hands and he took a few wobbly steps forward.

"The bathroom's just down the hall," she said. He didn't turn around, but she saw him nod again as he made his way to the bathroom.

The soup was hot by the time he had returned. Emma had already ladled it into bowls, which she had placed on the table. He smiled at her as he sat down across from her.

"Does it taste all right?" Emma asked nervously. She had never shared her cooking with anyone but her mother. Her mother always seemed to like it, but perhaps she just didn't want to hurt her feelings.

Graham nodded. "Delicious. It's been a long time since anyone's cooked for me."

"Really?" Emma asked. "Do you cook for yourself?"

"Sometimes," he replied. "If you count roasting game over a fire cooking."

"That counts," Emma decided. "That sounds exciting, actually."

He shrugged. "Gets old after a while. Your soup is much better."

Emma smiled. "You're just being nice."

Graham brought the bowl to his lips and drank the rest of the broth. "Maybe I am," he said, lowering the bowl. "But it doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Emma brought her own bowl to her mouth so he couldn't see her blush.

* * *

Snow shielded her eyes as she squinted into the sunlight, scanning the horizon. She could just make out the smoke rising in the east. Her chest tightened. The smoke could only mean one thing: Regina had attacked another camp.

The attacks were becoming more frequent. She knew the revolts were, too. Every day, more people rose up against Regina. Snow knew they were doing it in her name, and that made her uneasy. She hadn't given up hope of retaking the castle, but she didn't want a war. She wanted to find a way to make Regina surrender that didn't involve bloodshed.

But it seemed like the villagers had other ideas. And as much as Snow didn't want them to put themselves in danger, she could hardly tell them to stop. They couldn't understand why she wouldn't fight Regina; they remembered, after all, that she had done it once before. Snow knew they weren't wrong to wonder why she wouldn't want to fight. But it was too painful to tell them the truth.

The past eighteen years had shown her what life would have been like if she'd taken Regina's offer of exile. She would have had Charming, and the dwarves. She might have had Emma, eventually. But she wouldn't have lost her. And the fact that she could have lived this life, had been offered this life, and chosen not to take it… Her decision to fight Regina then had ultimately cost her Emma. And after everything Regina had taken from her, Snow wasn't sure she would survive if Regina stole anything else. Of course she could fight the war, and the dwarves, and Red, and Charming, and thousands of others would help. But how much would she have to sacrifice to defeat Regina? How many lives would be lost?

On the other hand, the way things were going now, the lives were being lost already.

Suddenly a twig snapped behind her. Snow whirled around, bow drawn, ready to attack. She exhaled in relief and lowered her weapon when she saw it was Charming.

"Sorry," she said, but he brushed her apology aside.

"Can't be too careful."

Snow sighed as Charming wrapped his arms around her. "You were up early this morning," he remarked.

Snow nodded against his chest. "Did I wake you?"

"No," he said, but she couldn't help thinking that he was lying.

Snow lifted her head and pointed to the rising smoke. "She did it again."

Charming followed her gaze and his expression hardened. "She wants a war."

"Are we going to give her one?" Snow wondered aloud, still watching the smoke. How many ruined houses did the smoke represent? How many lives lost? How many children orphaned?

She looked back at her husband when he hadn't answered. Snow saw that his eyes were downcast. She moved closer to him and covered his cheek with her hand, waiting for him to look up. When he did, she saw his eyes were glistening with tears.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, stroking his cheek.

He opened his mouth to respond, but it was several moments before he managed, "I can't lose you."

Snow felt her own eyes brimming with tears as she leaned forward to kiss him. "You won't," she promised. "We'd be fighting a war we can win. Both of us. Together."

But her stomach was in knots as he hugged her. There were no guarantees. The only guarantee of surviving was to not fight, and even that was becoming a non-option. There was always the possibility that Regina would grow tired of the revolts and go after her and Charming to put an end to the revolution.

"We should talk it over with everyone," Charming said at last.

Snow nodded. "We'll call a meeting later today."

Charming tilted her chin to meet her eyes. Snow smiled at him, but her smile faltered when she saw he still looked sad. "What is it?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he murmured.

"Tell you what?"

"That you had the dream again."

Snow swallowed hard. It was bad enough that she replayed Regina murdering Emma over and over in her nightmares without making her husband relive it, too.

"The same one?" he asked when Snow still hadn't responded.

Snow sighed. "Always."

* * *

It was the chill that woke him. One moment, there was darkness, and in the next, his eyes were open and he was drawing his knees to his chest as he began to shiver. His brow was covered with sweat. He bit down hard on the pillow so that Emma wouldn't hear his teeth chattering.

But she was already there. In less than a minute, she was kneeling in front of him, pushing his damp hair back from his face, peering into his eyes with concern. He couldn't stand when she looked at him that way. He didn't deserve her sympathy.

"I'll get some more blankets," she said. And she was gone before he could tell her no.

He closed his eyes, trying to get the shaking under control. He had grown up believing, knowing, that weakness was fatal. Strong animals were never caught and skinned; only the weak became meals.

"Is that better?"

Emma was back. He opened his eyes and saw that she had added several blankets. He didn't feel any warmer, but he still wanted to say yes. He groaned, frustrated by his body's weakness.

"It's all right," Emma said softly. "Your fever's breaking. You'll feel better soon."

Her gentle tone killed him. She was just like Snow, so kind and willing to help. If she knew what he had done – what he had been told to do – she would never look at him like this. She wouldn't be taking care of him. He couldn't let her comfort him, without her knowing what he had done. It wasn't fair; it wasn't right.

"Emma," he managed through gritted teeth. "Please…" _Leave._ His lips formed the word, but his voice died in his throat.

"I can – I can make you some more soup." Emma was looking at him uncertainly. He hated himself for making her feel this way, so at a loss. "Would that help?"

He shook his head. "Don't."

"What can I do?" Emma asked. "How can I help you?"

_You can't_, he wanted to say. But the chills were becoming unbearable, even beneath the added blankets. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth together, trying to regain control. If he could just fall asleep again, if he could just wake up once this was all over…

Suddenly, he felt warmth. He realized a moment later that Emma had crawled under the blankets with him, snaking her arms around him and drawing him closer to her. He groaned again.

"Shh," Emma whispered. "It's okay, Graham. Just relax. You'll be okay."

But he couldn't relax. Every muscle in his body was protesting. He wanted to tell her to leave, but his throat was dry. He didn't want anyone, let alone Emma, to see him like this.

"This part is hard," Emma began. He wondered if she was repeating words her mother had once said. "But it'll be over soon. Just hold on. Hold on, Graham."

He finally felt his body begin to relax. He slowly unclenched his teeth, and to his relief, they didn't start chattering again. But his limbs felt heavy and his body felt weak. He just wanted it to end.

"Go to sleep," Emma murmured, as though she had read his thoughts. "You can go to sleep. I'll stay with you until you do."

He exhaled, allowing her warmth to wash over him. He knew he should tell her to leave, but he couldn't form the words to explain why. Instead, he rasped, "Can you…keep talking?" He swallowed painfully, trying to quench his parched throat before adding, "Please?"

"Of course," Emma replied. She was silent for a moment, and then said, "My mother used to hold me like this when I was sick. She would let me sleep in her bed and she would rub my back and tell me it would be okay." There was a pause. "I miss her now that she's gone. I've never…I know this sounds silly, but I've never really been alone before. She's gone off to do things for the revolution, but she's always come back. This is the first time she's been gone for so long. She's planning to fight in the war against the Evil Queen." There was another pause, longer this time, before Emma added quietly, "I don't know when she'll be back."

He suddenly felt her hand on his. "Squeeze my hand if you want me to keep going." He didn't hesitate to squeeze back.

"Okay," Emma said, moving her hand back to his arm. "Well…I don't know if you've seen it, but I've been wearing this necklace. My mother gave it to me the day before she left. It's a lantern pendant." Emma sighed. "I love watching the lanterns. I used to count the days until they came again every year, but now I figured out they come a week after my birthday. Mother and I would watch them together from the window. We've never been to see them in person, though." Emma's voice was growing quieter. "I've always had this dream that we would go together. Down to the valley, where they launch the lanterns. And we would light one and send it into the sky together." Emma's voice was barely audible as she whispered, "This will be the first year watching the lanterns without her."

He tried to do the math in his head, but he could feel himself drifting off. He had seen Snow White's camp in the valley; he had seen the refugees who had come from miles away to launch a lantern. That had been less than a week ago. The lanterns hadn't gone up yet.

He made up his mind just as he slipped back into sleep. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

The nightmare was the same every time.

_The pain from where she'd hit her head was blinding. Snow closed her eyes, trying to fight down the waves of nausea. She had to stay strong. She had to turn around. She had to save her daughter._

"_Please," she begged. She opened her eyes and stared up at Regina. "Please, take me. Kill me instead."_

_Regina smiled. "That would be too easy." She towered over Snow, still clutching the sleeping Emma to her chest. "I want you to know what it feels like. I want you to suffer." She leaned closer and hissed, "I want you to spend the rest of your life wishing I'd never saved you from that horse."_

"_Regina." Tears welled in her eyes. "Regina, please. I was a child. I didn't – I didn't know-"_

_But the words died in her chest when she saw what Regina was holding. It was so small that Snow couldn't see it at first, but when Regina opened her hand to show her the tiny, glowing object, Snow felt like her own heart had been ripped out, too._

"_No," Snow whispered. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her worst enemy was holding her daughter's life in her hand. Literally. All of her nightmares were coming true._

"_This is what she did to Daniel." Regina's fingers curled into a fist over Emma's heart._

"_NO!" Snow screamed. Emma hadn't woken up, but Snow could see that her daughter was turning blue. She lunged toward Regina and grabbed her hand, trying to force her stepmother's fingers open._

"_Enough!" Regina yelled, propelling Snow backward. Snow groaned as her head made contact with the ground again. She closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. She wouldn't be able to save her daughter if she couldn't think straight._

_She felt Regina's hand on her chin, forcing her to look up. Snow opened her eyes. She no longer recognized the woman in front of her. She saw no trace of the Regina who had saved her life all those years ago. All she saw was evil._

_Suddenly, Regina was pushing Emma into her arms. Snow momentarily panicked, thinking that she was holding her daughter's body, but then she saw Regina still had Emma's heart in her hand. Snow realized what Regina was going to do just before she did it._

"_For Daniel."_

The nightmare was the same ever time. Until it wasn't.

_Snow's screams echoed off the nursery walls as Regina's fist closed once more. She clutched Emma closer to her chest, as though she could somehow shield her with her love. But she knew it was futile. Snow stared in horror as Regina slowly turned her hand over and opened her fingers, letting the dust fall to the ground. Her stepmother's mouth twisted into a cruel smile._

_Snow buried her head in Emma's blanket, sobbing against her daughter's lifeless chest. She wanted to die, to rip out her own heart. Anything to escape this pain. The thought of living without Emma was unbearable. _

"_Mother?"_

_Snow glanced up. Regina was looking at someone Snow couldn't see. Snow turned. A girl with long blonde hair stood before her. She had a lantern pendant around her neck._

_Snow suddenly noticed the weight of her daughter's body was gone. All she was holding was a blanket. She glanced back at the girl behind her. Those eyes, that chin –_

Emma?

"_Wait!" Snow called as the girl turned to go. She scrambled to her feet, letting the baby blanket fall out of her arms. "Wait, come back!"_

_But the girl was gone. _

* * *

**A/N:** I'll be back with another chapter soon. I'd love to know your thoughts in the meantime!


	6. Only A Monster

**Disclaimer:** Still own nothing you recognize.

**A/N:** I am so overwhelmed by the number of reviews, follows, and favorites this story is getting. Seriously, all of these positive responses just make my day. I am so grateful to those of you who are just joining the story now who are taking the time to review every chapter. It means the world to me. And a special shoutout to one of my lurkers who recommended this fic on her tumblr (a little birdie told me...) - wow, I'm so honored! No one's ever publicly recommended my stuff before (that I know of); thank you, thank you!

Much thanks also to my beta Melissa. Just, just, just because she's awesome.

* * *

The fever had finally broken.

His mind hadn't been this clear in days. He pushed the blankets back and sat up, glancing around the cottage. He rubbed his neck, which ached from lying on the floor for so long. Judging from the semi-darkness in the room, it was just before dawn.

As the memories of last night washed over him, it suddenly occurred to him that Emma was gone. He remembered her arms around him, her promising to stay with him until he fell asleep. Her telling him about the lanterns. But she was no longer next to him. And as much as he hated himself for thinking it, he found himself wishing she had stayed.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. No. He couldn't think that way. He wouldn't _allow_ himself to think of her like that. She was right to leave. She didn't owe him anything. He was pretty sure he wasn't contagious, but she might not have known that. After all he'd done to her, he didn't think he could live with himself if he'd gotten her sick, too.

He stood and stretched, flexing his tense muscles. Then he crept down the hall to the other rooms. One of them was empty, with a bed stripped of its blankets. He realized with a pang that Emma must have given all the blankets to him. The thought made his heart ache.

He found her in the next room. She was curled into a ball, her back to him, her long blonde hair splayed over the pillow. There were no blankets in here either. The realization struck him, propelling him back to the living room. He scooped up the first blanket he saw and carried it back to the room.

"You didn't have to do that," he murmured as he covered her with the blanket. "You didn't have to do that for me."

It occurred to him that it'd been a long time since he'd been around other people. His life as a huntsman was solitary, and although he always felt in tune with the animals around him, none of them ever spoke back. Most of the people he saw were ones he ran into in various villages. Sometimes he would be invited in for a meal, but he'd never met anyone as gentle and caring as Emma.

For years, he'd had nightmares of her screaming. He hadn't watched the scene, had turned away as soon as he'd let his one arrow fly into the ground, but in his mind's eye, he could recreate it. When her cries had increased in pitch, he'd known that she'd been hit. He'd closed his eyes and listened to her screaming, hating himself for ever going along with this mission. And then it had stopped. More than once he'd wondered if they'd killed her.

The memory was nauseating. She had been so young, so vulnerable and innocent. He had never dreamed that the Evil Queen would punish a child like that. He tried to push the memory from his mind. He couldn't change what he'd done, and that thought pained him. Thinking about it made it hurt just to look at her.

Emma shifted, and he moved back, worried that his presence had woken her. But she merely rolled over, still asleep. He wondered if he'd kept her up at night. If his feverish mutterings had made it difficult for her to sleep, or if she'd felt compelled to stand watch over him, to make sure he didn't start shivering again. He hoped not. He had never wanted to be a burden to her. Or anyone, for that matter. He'd learned a long time ago that burdens were too easily discarded once they became unbearable.

The sun began to rise, casting long orange rays into the room. For a moment, Emma was illuminated. His breath caught in his throat.

He had never seen anything so beautiful.

* * *

He woke to the sound of whimpering. Alarmed, he bolted upright and had his hand halfway to his sword before he realized where the sound was coming from. Now that he was awake, he could feel his wife's entire body trembling next to him.

"Don't go, please, don't go," she moaned.

"Snow," he whispered. He drew her toward him and rolled her onto her other side so that her head was pressed against his chest. The feeling was so familiar, it made his heart ache. It had been like this every night in the months after Emma had died. And occasionally after that. Especially when it came close to the anniversary.

"Please come back."

"Snow, wake up." He didn't want to think about what she was seeing. He had some idea, since she'd told him long ago what Regina had done, but he couldn't imagine what it felt like, to relive that memory, those last few moments of Emma's life. He hated himself for considering himself lucky that he hadn't been there. He didn't know how she could survive these dreams. Snow was stronger than he would ever be.

"Wake up, love," he said, giving her a little shake. "It's all right, I'm here. Come back to me…"

He heard her gasp and when he looked at her, he saw her eyes were open. She blinked up at him for a few moments before her face crumpled and she began to cry.

"It's all right, it's all right," he murmured as he pulled her in closer. He didn't know what else to say, and he hated feeling so helpless. There was nothing he could do to make these dreams go away. He had tried lighting a candle a few times, like he had done when she'd have nightmares about fire and burning, but that only seemed to make things worse. She said the candle reminded her too much of the past. He knew she meant when she was pregnant with Emma. She'd dreamed about the burning room almost every night in the third trimester.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you-"

"Don't apologize," he interrupted her gently. "You don't ever have to apologize to me. It's all right." He pressed his lips to her hair. "It's all over now." He felt her begin to relax and he kissed her forehead. "It was just a dream."

"It felt so real," she whispered, shuddering.

"I know it did," he said, brushing her long hair back from her face. "But it was just a dream. Just a memory." He saw something change in his wife's face and stopped, his fingers lingering over her cheek. "What is it?"

For several moments, she didn't speak. When she did, her voice was so low he could barely hear it. "This dream was different."

He kept his face neutral, although her words had surprised him. The dream _never_ changed. It had been the same for seventeen years. "Different how?"

"I saw her."

He waited for her to go on, but when she didn't, he asked, "Saw who?"

"Emma," she breathed. "At least, I think I did."

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning. She always saw Emma.

"Do you ever think about what she would've looked like?" Snow murmured. "What she would have been like? If she'd – if Regina hadn't-"

He inhaled sharply. He thought about that every day.

"She was so beautiful," Snow continued. "She looked just like you. She had your eyes, your chin. She didn't say anything, just stared at me, and I just – I _knew _that was her." She drew a shaky breath. "And then she left. I tried to call her back, but she didn't come. She was gone."

He tightened his grip around her as she began to cry again. "I know this is silly, I know that she's gone. But it felt so, so real." She buried her face in his chest, and he could barely make out a muffled, "I wanted it to be real."

He blinked back his own tears. Even after all these years, the loss was still painful; it still felt fresh. The lanterns always brought those feelings back. He wondered about the children who came with their parents to launch the lanterns into the night sky. Did they know what the lanterns represented? Did their parents tell them how the tradition had started? How many of the thousands of people who came to launch a lantern knew that it was to remember the death of a baby princess at the hands of the Evil Queen?

He'd never wanted this, never wanted any of it. Growing up, he never dreamed that he'd be anything but a shepherd, never imagined he had a twin brother who was destined to be king. He never dreamed he would fall in love with a banished princess and help her fight to regain her kingdom. His life with Snow had been wonderful, full of happiness he never knew he could have. But it also came with loss he never knew he could bear.

He swallowed the rising lump in his throat. "I wish it were real, too."

* * *

"Graham?"

Emma entered the living room cautiously, not wanting to disturb him if he was still sleeping. But the huntsman was nowhere to be found. All the blankets were folded and stacked on the chair. Emma frowned, thinking back to the blanket she'd found draped over her when she'd woken. He must have given it back when she was still asleep. Her frown deepened. He wouldn't have left without saying goodbye.

"Good morning."

Emma turned around. Graham had just walked in from outside. She smiled at him. "Morning," she replied. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," he said, nodding. "Much better. Thank you." Somehow, Emma knew he didn't mean for asking. "Do you want to come outside?" he asked, gesturing to the door. "I was just making some breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Emma repeated as she followed him. She caught sight of a small fire about ten feet away from the cottage door.

"This is me cooking," Graham said. "I thought that since you cooked for me, I ought to return to favor."

Emma's smile faltered when she saw what looked like hares roasting over the open flame. "Did you – catch these yourself?"

"Yeah," he said as he poked at one of the hares with a stick. "Oh," he faltered, catching sight of her expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's okay," Emma said quickly. "I'm just not used to seeing the food look so…alive. Usually my mother brings the meat home from the village."

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"No, don't be," Emma said as she sat down on a rock near the fire. "It's more exciting this way."

Graham didn't say anything else as he turned the hares over. As she watched him, it occurred to her that this was the first time in a long time that she'd actually been outside by herself. Sometimes she went outside, but only under the watchful eyes of the guards and only for short periods of time. Since her mother had gone to fight in the war, Emma had been true to her word and hadn't left the cottage. Her stomach twisted uneasily at the thought of disobeying her mother, but she pushed those feelings aside. She knew she was close enough to the cottage to still be safe, and what's more, she wasn't alone.

"You okay?" Graham asked.

"Oh – yes," Emma said. "I was just thinking about my mother."

He nodded knowingly. "It's hard to be the one left behind."

"Did you leave your family behind, too?" Emma asked.

He shook his head. "No." For a moment, it looked like he was about to say something more, but he remained silent. Emma wondered if she shouldn't have asked.

"Do you want to get plates?"

Emma laughed. "Do you use plates in the forest?"

"No," he said after a moment. "I suppose I don't."

"Well then," Emma said, smiling. She watched as Graham speared one of the hares and expertly removed it from the spit.

"Careful," he said, handing it to her. "It's still hot."

It was unlike anything she'd ever tasted before, but she found she liked the smoky flavor. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Emma thought it was nice to have someone else cook for her; her mother so rarely did any more, not since she had taught Emma how to do it herself. Emma wondered if this is what it would have been like if she hadn't grown up alone.

"Do you like it?" Graham asked. "I know it's not as good as your cooking, but-"

"No, it's wonderful," Emma said. "Thank you."

Graham smiled at her as he set his stick down. "You know, I was thinking about, ah, something you said yesterday."

"What's that?" Emma asked.

"About wanting to see the lanterns." Graham paused, and Emma watched him carefully. "You were talking about wanting to see them. Do you remember?"

"Of course," Emma said.

"And you've been so kind to me," he continued. "I was trying to think of something I could do for you, since you saved my life. I thought about staying with you until they came, just so you wouldn't have to watch them alone." He hesitated, and Emma felt her heart skip a beat. "But then I thought, maybe you'd like to go see them in person."

"See them…in person?" Emma repeated. "You mean, go down to the valley?"

"Only if you want to," Graham said, nodding.

"I'd love to!" Emma exclaimed. But as soon as she said it, her stomach clenched. Going down to the valley would be dangerous. It was exactly what she'd promised her mother she'd never do. She could justify sitting outside, ten feet from the place she was supposed to be, but going down to the rebellion camps would be very different. And she'd never really left the woods before. The one time she had…Emma swallowed hard at the memory and unconsciously rubbed the scar on her leg.

"But I don't think I can," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. "I promised my mother I'd stay here. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," Graham told her. "It's all right if you don't want to go. I just thought I'd ask-"

"It's not that I don't want to go," Emma said. "I _do_ want to go. I've wanted to go for years, ever since I first saw the lanterns in the sky. But I…can't."

"It's all right," he said gently. "I can still watch them here with you, if you'd like."

Emma smiled. "I'd like that."

* * *

"Your Majesty?"

Regina looked up. "What?" she snapped at the guard standing in front of her. She was not in the mood to hear about any more revolts. The only news she wanted to hear was from the Huntsman, and he was nowhere to be found.

"There's been an incident at the cottage."

Regina sat up straighter. "What is it?"

"Well, your girl's still there," the guard began apprehensively. "But she's not alone."

Regina raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean she's not alone?"

"I mean that-" He swallowed, and she smirked at his nervousness. "I mean that there's someone else there."

"Who?" Regina demanded, her fury masking her own unease. _No one_ knew where that cottage was, save for her own guards. How could anyone have possibly found it? How could Emma have let them in?

But of course Emma would let them in, Regina realized. Emma, who was too much like her mother, too kind for her own good. Emma, who could destroy this entire curse with her own naiveté.

"The huntsman," the guard replied.

"Which huntsman?" Regina asked, though she could already guess.

"The one you sent to kill Snow White."

Regina's blood went cold. One word from him and it would all be over. All he had to do was utter the name Snow White and Emma would know everything. But nothing had happened yet… Either he hadn't told her, or she hadn't believed it. The curse was still intact, she tried to assure herself. Surely if Emma had learned anything of consequence, Regina would already be feeling the effects.

"Orders?" the guard asked.

"He's a huntsman. He'll leave to go hunting." She glared at the guard. "Make sure he never comes back."

The guard nodded and turned to leave, but then Regina was struck by a new idea. One that would guarantee the Huntsman never told Emma anything _and_ that Emma would never do anything like this again.

"Wait."

The guard stopped at the door. "Your Highness?"

"On second thought…" Regina's lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Let her watch."

* * *

The cool evening air bit at his neck as he made his way back to the cottage, carrying two more hares in his hand. He missed his bow and arrow; knives weren't any good for catching birds. It hadn't been dark when he'd left, but now he could barely make out Emma's cottage. If it hadn't been for the fire she had started outside, he wasn't sure he could find it at all.

He smiled to himself. Emma was full of surprises. She had insisted on eating more game for dinner, which made him laugh. No one ever told him they liked his cooking before (granted, generally those who ate it didn't speak human language), but he was quite sure she was just saying it to be kind. But it didn't matter. If she liked his cooking, he would continue doing it for her. It was the least he could do, especially since he couldn't take her to see the lanterns.

He understood why she didn't want to go, and he hated himself for it. He hadn't asked for a reason, but he sensed what it was. He saw the way she covered her leg with her hand, like an animal trying to hide its wound. That's where she had been hit.

She was too scared to leave, and that thought killed him. He had done that to her. He could blame the Evil Queen all he wanted for dragging her into the ambush, but he was the one who had fired the arrow. He had watched as his companions fired their arrows as well. He hadn't done anything to stop them. One of the arrows had hit her in the leg, but he could tell that the wounds from that night went deeper than the flesh.

There was rustling behind him and he whirled around. He couldn't make out anything in the darkness, and he chastised himself for not thinking to bring a torch or a lantern. He strained his ears, listening for sounds of movement, but none came. After a moment, he exhaled and moved on. Probably just an animal on its way home.

By the light of the fire, he could just make out Emma tending to the flames. As he came closer, she suddenly glanced up, but she wasn't looking at him. He frowned, wondering if she had seen or heard something that he had not.

He didn't have to wait long for the answer. The next moment, the hares were out of his hands, and he was racing toward Emma as the first arrows began to fly.

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know, you all hate me now. But don't worry, I'm going to try to update again soon. In the meantime, if you're in need of more Gremma, might I recommend **Wilding** by ArianaKristine or **The Possibility of a Happy Ending** (a crossover with Wonderland) by diddykongfan? The world needs more Gremma.

Please don't forget to tell me what you thought in a review! Your reviews make my world go round.


	7. The Fates' Design

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize!

**A/N:** Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed the last chapter/this story! You all are the best.

Many thanks to Melissa for betaing, per usual. Also thanks to ArianaKristine for reading parts of the first section (P.S. Go read Wilding if you haven't already!)

* * *

It all happened so fast. One minute, she was tending to the fire, and the next she was on her feet as the arrows began to fly. She didn't know where to run, except away. The arrows continued to swoosh past her, landing in the ground. In that instant, she was thirteen years old again, trembling beneath her mother's body on the ground.

_I'm right here, I'll protect you_, her mother had said. But she wasn't there to protect her now.

Her foot caught a rock and suddenly she catapulted forward, a strangled cry escaping her lips. Emma scrambled to her feet just as Graham came into view. He had a knife in one hand, and he reached for her with his other.

"Run!" he yelled as he pulled her along with him. As they ran further from the cottage, the light from the fire faded. By the time they had reached the woods, Emma could barely see anything.

Suddenly, Graham skidded to a halt. Two men were advancing on them, one with a sword, the other a bow. She felt Graham move in front of her, his knife at the ready. Emma swallowed hard, aware of how defenseless they were. Graham had a knife, but that was no match for men with swords and arrows. She felt tears in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She didn't want these men to see her as any weaker than they already did. She felt Graham's fingers tighten around her hand. At least she wouldn't die alone.

Out of nowhere, a wolf howled. Before she realized what was happening, Graham had let go of her hand and lunged at the one with the sword. The man was on the ground before he realized he had a knife in his gut. Graham seized his sword and cut upward. The other man yelled in pain, grabbing at his bloody wrist. When he tried to get up, Graham hit him over the head with the hilt of the sword, and he collapsed.

"Grab the bow!" Graham instructed her. Emma saw it on the ground next to the man's motionless form and snatched it up. Graham was already strapping the quiver onto his back. "Here, trade," he said, holding the sword out to Emma and reaching for the bow.

"Oh – I can't," Emma stammered. "I don't know how to-"

"You'll be fine," he assured her as he took her hand. "Come on, let's go!"

He led her deeper into the forest. The hilt of the sword was becoming wet in her sweaty palm. She had worked with knives before, but never a sword. The weapon was much heavier and more awkward than it looked.

"Let's stop here," Graham muttered, pulling her behind a tree. Now that they'd stopped moving, Emma could hear the sound of footsteps crunching dead leaves. She knew he could hear it, too.

"Who are they?" Emma whispered. "Do they work for the Evil Queen?"

But Graham didn't have time to answer. Now she could hear shouting as the men discovered their fallen companions. Graham slid one of the arrows from the quiver, took aim, and fired. Emma's eyes widened. She had no idea how he could see so well in the darkness.

A cry of alarm told her Graham's arrow had hit its mark. She opened her mouth to compliment him, but the remaining men returned fire. Graham pushed her up against the tree, shielding her as the arrows came flying. She heard the dull thud of them striking the surrounding trees.

"This is no time for games, Huntsman!" one of them called.

Emma saw Graham's face harden in the moonlight. _Did he know these men?_

Graham pulled another arrow from the quiver and stepped out from behind the tree. He let the arrow fly, and this time, the yell as it made contact was much louder. Emma knew the men were closing in on them. She raised the sword, ready to swing at anyone who came near her.

"Stay here," he breathed. "I'll get the last one."

"Graham!" she hissed. But he was gone before she could say anything else. She turned around to see where he'd gone; he was running in the direction the arrows had come from. Her heart hammered in her chest. She hurried forward, making sure to stay hidden behind the trees. Why hadn't he at least taken the sword? She didn't like the idea of him firing arrows in the dark and dodging the ones shot in return.

She heard the thud of arrows hitting trees, but nothing that indicated anyone had been hit. Emma gasped as one of the arrows soared past her, landing in the ground. She chastised herself for not being more careful. She couldn't get hit; she couldn't distract Graham from what he had to do.

But it seemed Graham had other ideas. There was a muffled yell as Graham tumbled out from behind a tree on top of the other man. He was reaching down for something that Emma couldn't see, but when she heard a sharp snap, she realized it was the other man's bow.

"Like I need that, Huntsman," the man sneered. "They don't call me the Butcher for nothing."

The next moment, the man was up and had Graham pressed against the tree, his elbow digging into Graham's throat. Emma saw the glint of silver in his other hand.

"No!" she screamed, running forward, sword raised. She didn't stop to think about what she was doing, didn't think about the fact that she had no idea how to fight. She swung the sword with all her might at the man's side. He cried out and released Graham immediately. Emma stumbled backward as the man fell to the ground.

_What have I done?_

* * *

"Emma."

He moved toward her slowly, not wanting to scare her. She seemed too stunned to move, her eyes wide as she stared at the fallen Butcher. He reached for her hand.

"Come on," he urged. "We have to get out of here." When she still hadn't moved, he gave her a gentle tug. "Emma, we have to go! There could still be more of them."

That sprung her into action, and he pulled her deeper into the forest. He knew the Butcher wouldn't be able to hurt them now, but the rest of the men weren't so badly injured. He wanted to be as far away as possible by the time they were up. Emma's palm was clammy in his own, bringing back memories of his first kill. He knew the adrenaline rush would only last so long. He had to get her out of here.

"Where are we going?" Emma asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Away from here." He felt her slow down and he stopped to look at her. Her face was pale in the moonlight. "Is that all right?"

She let out a long breath. "I promised my mother I wouldn't leave."

"She'll understand," he assured her. When Emma continued to hesitate, he continued, "You promised her you'd stay in the cottage because it's safe." Emma nodded. "But it's not safe anymore. Those men work for the Evil Queen. They know where you live."

"They work for the Evil Queen?" Emma repeated.

"Yes."

He saw the way her eyes widened and knew that he had probably confirmed her worst fears. He wanted to say something reassuring, tell her that everything would be fine, not to worry, but he knew he couldn't lie. "Come on," he said instead. "Let's keep moving."

They walked in silence for a while. Although he strained his ears, he couldn't hear anyone approaching. He knew at least three of the men were still alive; the fate of the other two depended on whether any of their comrades chose to help them. Somehow, he knew they wouldn't. It wasn't the way these men worked.

"How did you know?" Emma asked, suddenly breaking the silence.

"How did I know what?"

"How did you know they were her soldiers?" she clarified. "They weren't wearing uniforms."

"Oh." He paused, wondering how much to say. He settled on, "I knew one of them."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "How?"

"I used to be in the Queen's army," he said, feeling his insides twisting with guilt. He forced himself to keep talking. "Several years ago. And one of them served with me."

"Which one?" Emma wanted to know.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, "The one who called himself the Butcher."

"You mean the one who I stabbed."

"The one who you saved me from," he corrected her gently. He wanted to add that it was all right to hurt the soldier, that the notions of morality she had grown up with meant nothing in a fight to the death. But he knew she wasn't ready to hear it yet, still hadn't wrapped her mind around what she had done.

Instead, he waited until she met his eyes before adding, "Thank you."

It was dark, but he could have sworn he saw her blush. "You're welcome," she said. "But you really did all of the work. I don't know how you managed to shoot at them in the dark."

"Practice," he said. "I've spent a lot of time hunting animals. You get used to listening for movement. You get used to memorizing your surroundings. There's no difference between night and day."

"I see," Emma said. Then she added, "I don't know what I would have done without you."

He smiled sideways at her. "I don't know what I would have done without you, either."

* * *

Regina stormed down to the dungeons, completely ignoring the greetings of the guards as they passed her. Her footsteps echoed loudly as she marched toward his cell. He was asleep, or pretending to be, but she pressed her face against the bars of his cage anyway. "Get up!"

Rumpelstiltskin opened his eyes and looked up, his lips slowly curling into a smile. "Your Majesty," he greeted her. "I thought you'd forgotten about me. It's been a long time."

"I need your help," Regina said.

"Don't you always?" His smile grew wider. "What is it this time?"

"Snow White and her prince are building an army against me," Regina said. "They're going to try to take back the castle."

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. "So why the long face, Your Majesty? You've already dealt with the _heart_ of the matter, I daresay." Regina's eyes narrowed. Even after all this time, she still found it unnerving that he knew so much. He'd been in this cell for nearly two decades, but he still knew what she'd done just days earlier.

"Oh," Rumpelstiltskin continued. "I see. He's found another heart instead."

"He better not have," Regina said, her voice low and angry. "I already sent the guards after him. He'll be dead in no time."

"I'm not so sure about that, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin cackled. "You underestimate how well a huntsman can defend himself."

"Not when he's outnumbered five-to-one," Regina countered.

Rumpelstiltskin merely smiled, and Regina felt a twinge of unease. What if it hadn't worked? What if he had managed to escape? She decided it didn't matter. As long as he was away from Emma, it didn't matter to her if he was alive or dead. For disobeying her orders to kill Snow White, he was as good as dead anyway.

"I'm not sure how much help I'll be to you, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said finally. "You know I don't have magic anymore. You'll have to win this one on your own."

"What about Emma?" Regina asked.

"What about her?"

"What if she figures it out?"

"That you're the Evil Queen? That Snow White, the leader of the rebellion and the woman whom she _thinks_ is the Evil Queen, is actually her mother?" Rumpelstiltskin licked his lips. "My, that would be devastating."

"But the curse?" Regina wanted to know. "What would that do to the curse?"

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. "Even after all these years, you still have no idea how it works, do you?"

"True love?" Regina sneered. "Of course I know how it works. I've kept this curse going for seventeen years, haven't I?

"But is it really true love?" Rumpelstiltskin asked. "I told you long ago, love is not the same as power and control." Regina frowned. "Dearie, if the love is true, you have nothing to worry about. But if she only loves you because she thinks you're good, then does she really love you at all?"

"I _am _good!" Regina insisted. "I have been good to her for her entire life. I fed her, bathed her, clothed her. Kept a roof over her head. I gave her a good life."

"Only after you stole her from her parents."

"Only after I took what was rightfully mine," she snapped. "I was always the queen. This was my kingdom."

"You can keep telling yourself that," he said. "But if I were you, I'd start preparing for war." He beckoned her closer with a long, gnarled finger. Regina leaned in. "And don't forget, dearie," he hissed, "no matter what you say about the kingdom, _she_ was never rightfully yours."

* * *

The sun rose a lot earlier than she'd expected. Although Graham had managed to find them a relatively sheltered spot in the woods, Emma hadn't been able to sleep. Her body was tired from running, but her mind wouldn't turn off. After a while, she'd just given up. As quietly as she could, she had risen and walked away from where Graham was sleeping. She hadn't wanted her restlessness to disturb him.

She'd found a flat rock nearby and sat down on it, watching the sunrise. She'd never been this far away from the cottage before, had never seen how beautiful the outside world could be. Emma marveled at how the sunrise covered the valley with its warm, golden glow. But she could also see the Evil Queen's castle, looming in the distance, a painful reminder of how dangerous this world could be.

Now that she had time to think about it and reflect on what she'd done, Emma realized that there was more to this world than her mother had ever told her. She'd known for a long time that the world was violent and dangerous. What she'd never realized was how the nature of the world could make her do unthinkable things, just in order to survive. Was this what her mother had been doing with the rebellion for all these years? Was this why she had kept her from the outside world for so long?

Emma shivered in the cold morning air and wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her knees to her chest. What scared her most wasn't that she had hurt the guard. After all, he had been about to kill Graham, and there was no way she could have let that happen. Not after he'd saved her from the rest of the guards. Not after he'd offered to take her to see the lanterns.

No, what scared her most of all was that she knew she would do it again if she had to. And now that she was in the outside world when a war was about to start, the chances of having to were much higher.

"Emma?"

She turned around. Graham was standing behind her, his dark eyes full of concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Emma said as he came closer. "Just couldn't sleep." She scooted over to make space for him on the rock, and he sat down.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said after a few moments. "The sunrise," he added, in response to Emma's questioning look.

"Yes," she agreed. "I've never really watched a sunrise before."

_I've never really left the cottage before either._

What would her mother say if she knew where Emma was now? Would she be proud of her for defending herself, or would she be furious that Emma had broken her promise? Would she even be able to find her again? What if she came back and Emma was gone? Emma's stomach clenched. She knew her mother would be out of her mind with worry.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Graham asked softly.

Emma turned to look at him. "Yes," she said after a moment. "I'm fine. I'm just worried about my mother."

Graham nodded. "I'm sure she'll understand you leaving the cottage."

"It's not that," Emma replied. "I have no way to tell her where I am. If she comes back, and I'm not there, she'll be so worried."

"You said she went to fight against the Evil Queen?" Graham asked. Emma nodded, and to her surprise, Graham smiled. "Then I think I know where she'll be."

"You do?"

"There," he said, pointing.

Emma followed his gaze. He was pointing down into the valley. She bit her lip, thinking about how far away it was. Not to mention how much closer the valley was to the Evil Queen's castle. Trying to find her mother there would be even more dangerous than staying in the woods. There would probably be more guards around, especially if the people in the valley were planning to start a war. But she wouldn't be alone.

Emma turned back to Graham. "Will you take me?"

Graham smiled. "Of course."

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you all enjoyed! Unfortunately, I can't promise the updates will always come this fast, but I'll try to update again soon. In the meantime, how about a review? It is my birthday after all...Come on, I can't have the characters, I may not even get some good Charming family feels moments on tonight's episode, so how about your thoughts instead? Please and thank you!


End file.
